


Voodoo

by Dedicate Kiwicrocus (cranky__crocus)



Series: SMACKDOWN '11 R2, R3, Final - CIRCLECEST [6]
Category: Emelan - Tamora Pierce
Genre: F/F, Gen, Goldenlake, smackdown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-04
Updated: 2011-06-04
Packaged: 2017-10-20 03:25:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/208248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cranky__crocus/pseuds/Dedicate%20Kiwicrocus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What have we—oh, Rosie, what have we done in raising them?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Voodoo

**Author's Note:**

> Written for SMACKDOWN at Goldenlake: fiefgoldenlake.proboards.com

“Feckless Water lack-wits!” Rosethorn howled as soon as she entered Discipline; the door closed behind her with more force than was strictly necessary. The rest of her grumbles must have been in the language of some ancient carnivore, for it seemed only Lark could understand them.

            But Briar understood the language of laughter, and Rosethorn was cackling now, cackling in her room. That perplexed him.

            He considered it from the roof of Discipline, thriving once more through a calm rest period—calm save his teacher’s temper, which was more ordinary than not. His thought spread around Winding Circle like a vine seeking its kindred companions.

            _Rosethorn is cackling in her bedroom. She was howling with rage a moment ago. I don’t understand you female-types._

 _No more than we understand you Briar-types_ , Daja responded immediately, a little gruff with her metallic mind-voice. It felt hot between Briar’s ears; he organised heat-resistant evergreen energy around his mind to block the heat.

            _I’m sure Lark has said something hilarious_. Sandry’s inner voice was smooth as silk and almost dreamy. _She’s in the kitchen fetching tea—you’re welcome to come down if you’d like._

 _Rosethorn would capture me for rest hour work. She may not be intent on sticking to schedule, but I am._

 _Only with food and leisure_ , Sandry retorted, rising from her worker’s trance.  _Tris?_

There was a tug along their lines—Sandry plucking at a thread to Tris, who was oddly silent on the matter. The unintentional response they received was one of hesitation. Briar jumped on it.

            _Tris, what did you do?_

Tris attempted to push them out of her head with a gust of wind, but Briar took on the form of a tropical plant and bent with it, rooting himself firmly in her mind.  _Tell._

 _I left a doll in her room. A doll with a blue habit_ … Tris’ mind connection was quieter with what seemed to be shame.  _It’s the sort of dolls people use to make curses…_

 _You gave Rosethorn a Water Dedicate voodoo doll?_  Daja summarised, her laughter fire-hot as they all felt Tris’ chagrined confirmation despite her silence.

            Three youth cackled uncontrollably.

            Briar heard Lark out in the garden, presumably speaking to Rosethorn.

            “I swear there’s nothing eerier than when those four laugh at something we can’t hear. What do you suppose it is this time?”

            Briar hurried to the edge of the roof to see Rosethorn lift up a doll, the woman’s face contorted in an attempt to constrain laughter. Lark nearly fell over with her own.

            “What have we—oh, Rosie, what have we done in raising them?”

            “Something right,” Rosethorn concluded. “Something very  _right_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! C: Hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
